


Let It All Unbreak You

by Sweety_Mutant



Category: Black Sails
Genre: (this fic is a mirror be warned), Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Tragedy, Break Up, Crossing Timelines, Dream Sex, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mirrors, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:27:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweety_Mutant/pseuds/Sweety_Mutant
Summary: Post season four.Alone in taverns, at different points in time, Flint and Silver ponder what went wrong in their different relationships. They drink, remember and regret. They dream,  while knowing very well the very reason why it all went wrong...





	Let It All Unbreak You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was obviously written for the SilverFlint BigBang 2018, and I am so happy to have been a part of this, and also to have had the amazing [beanarie](http://beanarie.tumblr.com) do the art for this fic! (Go check the link go, go, I tell you!) The Tumblr post for the art is here: [*Art*](http://beanarie.tumblr.com/175184750523/all-log-it-had-always-been-him)  
> I hope you will enjoy reading, be sad and frustrated and maybe hate me a little bit :p

 

**_CHAPTER 1_ **

 

 

How could it go this wrong?

 

Where did I go wrong?

 

Where did he go wrong?

Below, raise to descend, raise your glass, below there is not only one answer. People come and go, time flows. No one cares, reputations fly, old friends die. Below, raise your glass below, and wonder.

 

***

 

He was the King once.

Him, Vengeance’s champion.

 

Dead long ago, dead to the civilised world and to each other. Dead, they had wished to be. Dead, their friends. Dead and hanged and keelhauled and dead drowned shot hanged high. Forgotten gods of the sea.

Somewhere, people still told tales of there lives, tall tales of giants. But there below they did not care. Out of time, their questions had too many answers.

 

Long John Silver.

Captain Flint.

 

Did they remember their own names? Below names do not matter anymore. Failing organs and eyes gone blind. Even gods die, in pain, agony beneath a table, drowned below the sea of cheap spirit, a blessed sleep, forgetting where they went wrong?

 

_How could it go this wrong? What did I do, what did you do? I lost you… you lost me. We were so wrong._

 

**_CHAPTER 2_ **

 

_There was a time he had love. A perfect life. The world at his feet, a world that did not want him. He had rejected the world in one last attempt at saving his heart. What a fool have I been! What a fool!_

_There was a time he found love again. Blessed seconds he would see behind his eyelids for each slow second it would take him to die._

_A field._

_A field, a silhouette._

_A silhouette, a smile._

_A smile, recognition._

_Recognition, an embrace._

_Was this love?_

_Love, again? Did he deserve it? He had believed, then, with all his heart, that he deserved this new chance at life. Giving up war’s banner had been easier than he had thought._

 

In an unnamed tavern, he crumbled, wrecked thin frame, red-white hair made redder by low lamps. He crumbled down and no one cared. This old man had walked into the tavern one day, he left sometimes and other times had to be carried out. But he paid. No one cared, he did not talk but he paid. Rumour had it he had been a pirate. Rumour had it he had been a soldier. No name, no questions. Sometimes he would talk to himself, muttering names of long dead people. Sometimes the crash of broken ceramic would echo from the wooden boards to the ceiling, when he could no longer bear to see his reflection at the bottom of the tankard. His reflection had seen too much. This worn face knew the answers, and when he was drunk enough, it would whisper them to him, and he would break down. He crumbled, he crumbled on himself as he remembered.

He had been Captain Flint once.

He had had the most wonderful lover and mistress once.

Love known and love lost, love regained.

He had been Captain Flint once.

He had fallen down, never to rise up again.

 

**_CHAPTER 3_ **

 

_There was a time he had luck. A life he had not wanted. Beyond any dream. The world at his foot, a world that feared him. He had fought the world in one last attempt at finding a purpose. What a fool have I been! What a fool!_

_There was a time war found him, and he fell in love with her. She had been his support when he would have given in, she had trusted him with a glorious purpose, and he would regret his weakness for each slow second it would take him to die._

_A war._

_A war, a silhouette._

_A silhouette, a beacon._

_A smile, trust._

_Trust, the solution._

_Was this love?_

_Love? Did he deserve it? He had believed, then, with all his heart, that he deserved this new chance at life. Giving up war’s banner had been easier than he had thought._

 

In an unnamed tavern, he collapsed , his long learnt balance letting go, tangled curls darker than the corner he sat at. He stood up, left and no one cared. This old man had walked into the tavern one day, he left sometimes and other times had to be carried out. But he paid. No one cared, he did not talk but he paid. Rumour had it he had been a pirate. Rumour had it he had been a prince. No name, no questions. Sometimes he would look into the distance, a hand twitching, his mouth a disfigured smile. Sometimes a loud sob, a wretched sob would escape his parched old lips and yet no head would turn, the tavern a hive of happy voices. In the midst of this loud silence his voice had said too much. This deep growl knew the answers, and when he was drunk enough, it would whisper them to him, and he would. He collapsed on himself as he remembered.

He had been Long John Silver once.

He had had the fiercest and strongest woman at his arm.

Love known at war and love lost like war

He had been Long John Silver once.

He had fallen down, never to rise up again.

 

_**CHAPTER 4** _

 

Alcohol is the key to forgetting, some will tell. One can wonder what they have to forget, which bad decision, shame! Which lonely broken heart, childish!

Years apart, nothing would help them forget. Forgetting had been their sin. Forget yourself, a second, a year, ten years, and soon you will lose yourself. Craft yourself a new identity, forget who you are, who you were. Forgetting is impossible when at the close, you are left with only the memories of you past errors.

And death could not come soon enough, _what did I do wrong?_

And death could not be sweeter, _Where did I go wrong?_

Yet death waits, waits, years apart. Death waits until their lives have fully unravelled in reverse, memories, memories, memories, _where did we go wrong?_

 

_**CHAPTER 5** _

 

James had closed the door on his old life, twice, _for good_ , he had told himself. He had been ready to start all over again. This man, this man holding him in his arms, kissing him. That man, he knew him. He had been in heaven. In heaven for a few weeks, in hell the months that followed.

It had been easy the first few days. When James had been willing to forget the war, when Thomas had been silent. It was a memory and a shadow they kissed. It was in the dark of the night they touched, closed their eyes on scars that they willed to be only physical. Oh, it had been so easy! Thomas had never ceased to love James McGraw, James McGraw had always loved Thomas. So easy to forget… If they did not speak of it, then it was not true. If they focused on their new life, it would work out like it should have long ago. And so they loved each other, James McGraw buried alive between them, Miranda burned on the horizon. The war, a dark silhouette out of the corner of their eyes. The war taking a human shape, Captain Flint so close underneath James’s pale scarred skin, out of reach, Thomas would have to extend his fingers just a few inches more, digging into the flesh of the past. The war taking a human shape, in the back of James’s mind, a King. And in dreams he walked towards his dark king, always out of reach. He just had to walk out of the warm embrace, walk towards the past. They loved each other so obviously. They loved each other every night, like so many years ago. And every night, the past got closer. James could no longer close his eyes, staring into the void at the dead of night. And every night, the past got closer, and under Thomas’s loving hands James’s body was this of a stranger.

 

_**CHAPTER 6** _

 

John had closed the door to his old life, twice, _for good_ , he had told himself. He had been reluctant to start all over again, but what choice did he have. It was for the best, he had told himself. For the greater good, and he is happy, and the war has ended, and Madi… thanks to him heaven’s peace prevailed in Nassau, and even if it was only to last a few months, a few years, it was for good.

It had been easy the first few days. When John had been willing to forget the war, when Madi’s silence was shadowed by the thrill of victory. The war a memory and their cause hidden in the shadows. They no longer touched, unwilling or unable to close their eyes on the scars left by their sacrifice. Oh, it had been so easy! John had never ceased to love Madi, it was for her own good… Madi still loved John. So easy to forget… If they did not speak of it, then it was not true. If they focused on their new life, it would work out like it should have in the future they had planned on the break of the war. And so they loved each other, the war reclining on the horizon. This war, a dark silhouette out of the corner of their eyes. The silhouette of dead men, killed for their freedom, for their children, their island. The war taking a human shape, a father’s shape to Madi. Slowly settling itself in between them, john would only have to extend his fingers to touch it, break the veil and Madi’s armour. The war taking a human shape, in her dreams, bitter, sour, pushing her away from the King she had helped to create. Loving each other was more and more difficult, as was loving a shadow as resentment grows. Relentless, every night, the past got closer. John could no longer close his eyes, staring into the void at the dead of night. And every night, the past got closer, and under Madi’s hard gaze John reclined and regretted.

 

_**CHAPTER 7** _

 

Later, they would recall it all beginning with an unvoiced question.

_What have you done?_

_What have I done wrong?_

_Who are you?_

_Who am I?_

Later, they would know it had begun before any question. Decades ago, it had begun. When James had drowned his heart into the sea, ironed it with salt and blood. They did not talk. _The past is painful._

_Let’s not talk of it James…_

_So long… it was so long ago._

_We have the future for us. Let’s forget the wasted years. Let’s kiss them away._

Kiss away the wasted years as the shadows of the past closed in on them. They did not talk, they thought love would have been enough. The memory of a lost love, a love regained. Love drowned, lost at sea, a love that had killed itself.

 

_**CHAPTER 8** _

 

Later, they would recall it all beginning with an unvoiced question.

_What have you done?_

_What have I done wrong?_

_Who are you?_

_Who am I?_

Later, they would know it had begun before any question. Months ago, it had begun. When John had thrown himself into the unknown see, drinking blood for the first time. They did not talk. _The past is painful._

_Let’s not talk of it Madi…_

_You know… I had to._

_We have the future for us. Let’s forget the war that was not. Let’s kiss it away._

Kiss away the taste of the war as the shadows of the past closed in on them. They did not talk, they thought love would have been enough. The memory of an unexpected love, a love never asked for. Love found, lost at war, a love that had killed itself.

 

_**CHAPTER 9** _

 

James had believed him dead.

Thomas had believed him dead.

And much to their shame, they had loved each other dead. Ten years ago, they had witnessed the death of their love, and it had been easy to cling to a memory. Memories do not judge. Memories do not change.

James knew he had changed. He had tried his best to close the door, to bury Captain Flint. He had changed, and when he looked deep inside Thomas’s eyes, his reflection stared back at him, on his lips fateful words. _You were me._ Thomas loved him. _I was you._ Thomas had not yet asked any question about the past. _It is not yet the past._ Thomas would understand. The reflection smiled back at James. Thomas would forgive him. The reflection flickered away, Thomas’s eyes rolling back as he brought James’s face to his with trembling hands. Heated kissed, panting breaths, but behind James’s lids remained his twisted reflection.

 

_**CHAPTER 10** _

 

John had believed in the cause.

Madi had believed the war.

And much to their shame, they had loved each the warrior in each of them. A king and queen, bloodthirsty, born of years and years of abuse witnessed and lived and survived. It had been easy to cling to an image. Images do not falter. Images do not make mistakes.

John knew that to her he had abandoned their cause. He had tried his best to close the door on the war, to make her see. He had changed, she had changed and so had the world, and when he looked deep inside Madi’s eyes, his reflection stared back at him, on his lips fateful words. _The pirates will be leaving here. The chiefs. But I will stay. And I will wait. A day a month a year forever in the hopes that you will understand why I did what I did._ Madi loved him. _I trusted you._ Thomas had not directed at him any cutting words, a queen’s steel gaze. _And I will wait._ Madi would understand. His reflection smiled back at John. Thomas would see the good in his actions. The reflection flickered away, Madi’ s eyes closing as she took a sharp breath and shook her head. Barely trembling lashes as she opened her mouth. And behind John’s lids remained his twisted reflection. _But I will stay. And I will wait._

 

_**CHAPTER 11** _

 

It all went down in a fight, images confused in James’s mind. In the translucent membrane of his consciousness, Thomas’s incomprehension mirrored Miranda’s dying rage. The fire burned Charles Town, the fire burned in Thomas’s eyes, down his cheeks. The screams of war echoed in their safe haven.

The screams of war that would never leave James, always follow him, haunt him.

He drank to numb his senses, he drank away the screams of war and Thomas’s tear. And at the bottom of each empty glass, his reflection, his burned, broken reflection. James asked, to his reflection, night after night, James asked the same question. _Where did I go wrong?_

And at the bottom of the glass, the reflection answered.

It all went down in a fight, in a fire.

It all went wrong years ago.

You did wrong when you changed. You did wrong because you lived.

He believed you dead and you believed him dead. You should have stayed that way, loving a dead man. Dead men don’t change.

And at the bottom of the glass, the reflection answered. Each night a different answer, for James knew the truth.

Each night James learnt and forgot the truth again.

 

_**CHAPTER 12** _

 

It all went down without a fight, images confused in John’s mind. In the translucent membrane of his consciousness, Madi’s iron resolve mirrored Flint’s when he had commanded the war. The fire burned in the pirates’ hearts, the fire burned in Madi’s eyes, in her people’s blood. The screams of war echoing forever between them.

The screams of war that would never leave John, always follow him, haunt him. Nowhere he would be safe from his kingly shadow.

He drank to numb his senses, he drank away the screams of war and Madi’s rejection. And at the bottom of each empty glass, his reflection, his burned, broken reflection. John asked, to his reflection, night after night, John asked the same question. _Where did I go wrong?_

And at the bottom of the glass, the reflection answered.

It all went down without a fight, like an old fire dies.

It all went wrong months ago. _I said you would stay._

You did wrong when you changed. You did wrong because you chose peace.

She believed in victory and you believed in peace. You should have stayed a simple cook, you should have died a simple king. Men of peace die alone.

And at the bottom of the glass, the reflection answered. Each night a different answer, for John knew the truth.

Each night John learnt and forgot the truth again.

 

_**CHAPTER 13** _

 

Time is a fickle thing. Days that last a lifetime, blessed days that make memories. Years that are gone in a snap of the fingers, dead years. James was left with his memories, of a time when he knew what happiness was. Each night, alone, drunk, ageing, James was forced to recall the memories. He would fall asleep in the dirty gutter, asleep as the new day begun. Asleep as people walked by his body, in his sleep there was nothing to remember. One day, he would no longer awaken sober. One day, he would no longer— and no new day would begin.

In the light of the sun, people scurried away from him. A wreck. He had been feared once. He had been loved once. Under the sun, he was nothing anymore. Long ago had James McGraw died. How long ago had Captain Flint died?

How long had it been, how long since it all went down in a fight? _Where did I go wrong?_

 

**_CHAPTER 14_ **

 

Time is a fickle thing. Days that last a lifetime, alone, alone _you said you would stay_ . Years that are gone in a snap of the fingers, dead years. Years so long John came close to forgetting his motivations. _But I will stay. And I will wait._ John was left alone in the company of his memories, of a time when he knew who he wanted to be. Each night, alone, drunk, ageing, John was forced to recall the memories. He would fall asleep in the dirty gutter, asleep as the new day begun. Waiting for Madi who would never come. Asleep as people walked by his body, in his sleep there was nothing to remember. One day, he would no longer awaken sober. One day, he would no longer— and no new day would begin.

In the light of the sun, people scurried away from him. A wreck. He had been feared once. He had been loved once. Under the sun, he was nothing anymore. Long ago had John the coward boy died. How long ago had King Long John Silver the Giant died?

How long had it been, how long since it all went down quietly, like water through his thin fingers? _But I will stay. And I will wait. Where did I go wrong?_

 

_**CHAPTER 15** _

 

“You abandoned her.”

Was it true? Why, asked James, why Thomas could not understand? He had had no choice. It had been England’s fault all along. Peter Ashe, and Miranda, and Charles… why Thomas could not understand. All along their fight Thomas was crying. There were no more tears in James’s heart, he had sacrificed them to a dead man, wept them at sea. Why was Thomas not listening to him?

“You let her die.”

Was it true? James had done his best. Thomas had not been here! James would regret shouting, he would regret each word. Why had Tomas asked? Had they not been happy like this? The past behind them, no need to remember, and the future theirs to explore? James should have known that Thomas would have noticed the changes in him. Fleeting glances and evasive answers. Night spent awake, the echoes of war. A war still raging in Flint’s heart.

“You killed her.”

Thomas had turned his back to him then, broken voice accusing, and all James had seen was his own reflection, grinning yet crying, dark green eyes like the ocean’s bottom. His reflection had mouthed to him silent words, echoing through his mind.

_I killed her._

_I let her die._

_I abandoned her._

 

 _I died too._ Barely whispered, _“_ I died too Thomas.”

 

**_CHAPTER 16_ **

 

“You abandoned us.”

Was it true? Why, asked John, why could Madi not understand? He had had no choice. It had been England’s fault all along, Flint’s fault and Blackbeard and Rogers and Max for all he cared. And Eleanor and Jack and Mr Scott and Billy. And Billy, yes Billy’s fault… why could Madi not understand. All along their conversation John became smaller and smaller. There were no more regret in John’s heart, he had sacrificed them to a never lost but never won war, he had abandoned them at sea before he was even a cook. Why was Madi not listening to him?

“You threw our trust away.”

Was it true? John had done his best. Madi had not been here when he had been created!Neither had he, but he had bent his back, accepted his fate long ago. Why did she had to be so stubborn. She was the cliff against which John’s waves crashed and died, and he would regret shouting, he would regret each word. Why had Madi come back? Had they not been better like this? Alone with their choices, staying on their positions. The past behind them, no need to remember, no need to lie and fight anymore? John should have known that Madi would never accept his choices. His fighter queen. His beacon of light. Never, never would she accept the darkness coiled around his heart. He had tried to tame it for her, during the long nights, until the war ended. But the darkness remained, a war still raging in John’s heart.

“You killed him.”

Madi had turned his back to him then, broken voice accusing, and all John had seen was his own reflection, grinning yet crying, dark blue eyes like the loneliest of nights. His reflection had mouthed to him silent words, echoing through his mind.

_I killed him. James Flint. Long John Silver_

_I abandoned them._

_I abandoned her._

 

 _I killed us._ Barely whispered, _“_ I never.”

 

**_CHAPTER 17_ **

 

Take one away from a trinity and the balance breaks, however strong was the love binding the last two. Take a stone away and the wall is destroyed. Nothing would ever be like it was before, it had been so for ten years.

Communication was severed.

Understanding made impossible. Thomas loved a dead man. _I died too._ James had no words, no words to tell the war, to tell the tale of reality. Shouts, screams, tears, communication severed. “You were not there Thomas!”

“You did not see it!”

Morals were crushed, morals James had stopped believing in long ago. In Thomas’s eyes he could see the monster, he could see Captain Flint. He saw himself, laid bare before the love of his life. And he saw only sadness, no understanding. No bravery.

_Where did I go wrong?_

James had willingly embraced the darkness in his mind. But how to explain?

How to tell? In the dead of night in the back of his mind, a silent answer came to James. How to tell? There was one he had never felt the need to tell anything to. One who would have understood. Because he had been there, and he had touched the darkness. He had been one with Flint, on War’s death ship. In the dark forest where identities are buried deeper than gold.

There was one who would understand James.

_Where did I go wrong?_

There had been one, but he was lost now. Lost to James, far away. Living his life.

 

_**CHAPTER 18** _

 

Take trust away from a relationship and the balance breaks, however strong was the love binding the people. Take a stone away and the wall is destroyed. Nothing would ever be like it was before, it had been so since that fateful day the war ended.

Communication was severed. And he had stayed and he had waited.

Now, understanding made impossible. Madi loved a man who had never existed, crafted from lies and stories, the legend of a king with a thousand voices, an image of a god

. _I died too. I was created by them and created myself and killed myself. I abandoned myself too._ John had no words, no words to tell the story from his side of the war, to tell the tale of reality. His legend. His creation. Shouts, screams, tears, communication severed. “I did not have a choice Madi!”

“I never had a choice in this war! They created me!”

Morals were crushed, morals John had stopped believing in long ago, if he had ever been given the chance to believe in them in the beginning. In Madi’s judgement he could see the monster, he could see Long John Silver. He saw himself, scorched and skinned by she who should have been the love of his life. And he saw only sadness, no understanding. No bravery.

_Where did I go wrong?_

John had willingly embraced the darkness in his mind. But how to explain?

How to tell? As she was walking away, eyelashes trembling and fists balled at her sides, a silent answer came to John. How to tell? There was one he had never felt the need to tell anything to. One who would have understood. Because he had been there, and he had touched the darkness. He had been one with Silver, on War’s death ship. In the dark forest where identities are buried deeper than gold.

There was one who would understand John.

_Where did I go wrong?_

There had been one, but he was lost now. Lost to John, far away. Living his new life, thanks to John.

 

_**CHAPTER 19** _

 

It should have been easy.

It all went wrong.

James chose to leave. He had been lying awake, the bitter taste of failure and guilt burning down his throat. Thomas, asleep by his side. Estranged. Standing up, walking to the mirror in their small washroom, James had looked his reflection deep in the eye. _Leave._

_Disappear._

_James._

_He loved you dead, now he’d rather love you gone._

James had left before morning. Leaving should have been more difficult. He should have been caught. He had escaped like a ghost. Without a word, without a note, an anonymous face in the crowd.

Outside, back in a world that had cast him away. James had no reason to be anymore. Flint by all means did not exist. He felt… no, he felt nothing. His mind was blank and his heart ashes. How long had he been in that plantation with Thomas? His hair was long again, how could months fly by so fast?

Time is a fickle thing, and so is memory. In time of peace was is quickly forgotten, life takes over. Names are forgotten too, and as a ghost Flint entered the first tavern he found. He had not even looked at the name of the town. All towns were the same, part of a world he did not belong in. He had barely enough money on him to pay for a few drinks. Barely enough, yet when night fell dark on the land, at the bottom of the glass he saw his reflection again. Stare into the abyss— stare into you heart and a monster will stare back at you. A broken monster. _Where did I go wrong?_

 

_ **CHAPTER 20** _

 

It should have been easy.

It all went wrong.

John stayed and watched Madi leave. He had chosen to remain, with nowhere else to go, and watched as his hopes left with her, the bitter taste of failure and guilt burning down his throat. Madi, who should have spent the years by his side. Estranged. John, standing up on a cliff on the edge of Nassau, the sea a-crying underneath his feet. John looked the sea in the eye. This sea, on which he had lost and gained so much. His far away reflection in the swirling waters. Who was he now? What to do now? _Leave._

_Disappear._

_John._

_It was not you she love, it was but a role. This role is dead now, your last mask removed. Who are you, you should better go._

Even if John had listen and obeyed his reflection, leaving would have been no use. Madi had taken that last choice before him, seizing freedom and a future when his eyes were still lost in the water. Knowing her gone, remaining alone should have been more difficult. Walking down the town he should have cried. He should have been mocked, or at least recognised. He was nothing more than a ghost now. Not unlike other veterans, sun and sea burned mariners. An anonymous face in the crowd.

Outside, back in a world that had cast him away, and yet a world John had been proud to understand. He had been a king here, lying his way through life, getting away with it all. He could convince them all of anything, but not himself. And Madi, her fire, her heart, were too much like himself. He had and always would be his own downfall. John Silver had killed his previous identity when he had needed to be just a cook. Long John Silver had supplanted him when the war had needed a leader. But now Long John Silver had no reason to be anymore. Silver by all means should not have existed anymore. He felt… like a fraud, more than ever. He had no skill left for that ultimate battle against himself. His mind was blank and his heart ashes. How long had he been waiting for Madi, for a sign within himself? His hair was longer now than ever, gray curls and a grey beard. How months fly by so fast?

Time is a fickle thing, and so is memory. In time of peace was is quickly forgotten, life takes over. Names are forgotten too, and like a grey ghost Silver entered the first tavern he found. He had not even looked at the name of the tavern. Had he been there before? During the war, when he had been a giant. Had he spilt blood there? He did not care anymore. This place was maybe part of a past world Silver wished to never have been a part of. He had enough money on him to pay for drinks, too many than was reasonable. He could barely see, his vision blurred by alcohol when night fell dark on the land, yet at the bottom of the glass he saw his reflection again. Stare into the abyss— stare into you heart and a monster will stare back at you. A broken monster. _Where did I go wrong?_

 

_**CHAPTER 21** _

 

 _Where did I go wrong?_ And as the monster stared back at Flint, painted behind his eyelids, his only company in a long sleepless night, so came the answer. A sentence, a ripple, soon crashing into the walls of his sanity. These words, echoing in his mind, _My name is Long John Silver_ , echoing like madness, like the waves, like a call, an urgency, _return to the sea._ Flint’s eyes opened at the revelation, unseeing. _Where did I go wrong… Long John Silver._

 

**_ CHAPTER 22 _ **

 

His name had been James McGraw, but for him he had always and only been Captain Flint. _Where did I go wrong?_ And as the monster stared back at Silver, nameless yet so familiar, his only companion in a long sleepless night, so came the answer. A memory, a ripple, soon crashing into the walls of his sanity. These images, echoing in his mind, red hair, fire, clever tongue, clever fire, violence and balled fists directed at him, fear itself had come for Silver, echoing like madness, like the waves, like a call, an urgency, _return to the sea._ Silver’s eyes opened at the revelation, unseeing. _Where did I go wrong…Captain Flint._

 

_**CHAPTER 23** _

 

Answers should be welcomed. And by all means, they are. Many women and men will strive for answers, forget their lives in that quest. Some questions, haunting humanity. Some questions, so intimate. Some questions, never asked. But once comes the answer, the sky clears and the water calms down. The path is clearer and so is the mind. In grief or in joy, life goes on, and on, and on. So it should be. Answers should be cherished.

John Silver.

James Flint.

When the answer came to them, whispered back from the depths of their memories, the dark rose and the sea roared. An unwelcome answer, to a question they should never have asked. With the answer came certainty. They had known, all along.

All along.

It had always been.

Always been him.

Him.

_James fucking Flint._

_John fucking Silver._

Too many answer, impossible to forget who you are, who you were. No no, forgetting is impossible when at the close, you are left with only the memories of you past errors.

And death could not come soon enough, _what did I do wrong?_

And death could not be sweeter, _Where did I go wrong?_

Now death is ready, close, close, years apart. Death waits until the memories, memories, memories give way to dreams, dreams… _where did we go wrong?_

 

_**CHAPTER 24** _

 

Flint fell down the slope of his dark memories slowly, glass after glass of cheap poison.

He should have known.

It had always been him.

_John fucking Silver._

Oh, how wrong he had been!

Raise your glass to the fool! The fool and king of that fucking new world!

Oh, how easy it was to remember…

 

**_ CHAPTER 25 _ **

 

Silver fell down the slope of his dark memories slowly, glass after glass of cheap poison.

He should have known.

It had always been him.

_James fucking Flint._

Oh, how wrong he had been!

Raise your glass to the fool! The fool and king of that fucking new world!

Oh, how easy it was to remember… to wait for the wrong person to come back.

 

_ **CHAPTER 26** _

 

Shining eyes were the first things Flint remembered. Shining with intelligence and fear. Reflecting the sun, black pupils growing larger, blue irises disappearing as the lies were woven tighter and tighter around his neck. Oh, Flint would have snapped that neck in two!

Oh, how he regretted his mercy! How easy it would have been, he could see it now! What had he won in the end, for keeping those beautiful eyes in his life? The past was blurry, but the memories remained intact. The eyes, studying him, learning him, burning through him. Shining eyes were the first things Flint had cherished since Thomas’s death.

Silver’s eyes had been those of a trapped animal, a smart boy, a lost soul. Alive, when Flint had for too long been flirting with Death. Pure, when Flint’s soul had been tainted by his own darkness. Uncorrupted, and soon to fall.

Flint had loved him falling.

Flint had felt his anger and hatred turn into something else. A feeling.

And oh, how had Flint loved him falling!

It was a love made of salt and dark eyes and blood. So unlike his sweet Thomas. It was a love he had recognised too last and lost before. A doomed love, a dark love. Child of the darkness that had destroyed them both. Born of the war. Flint had changed too much. The monster had loved Silver, and Silver had loved him back, in his own dark ways.

But it was too late now.

How wrong they had been…

 

_**CHAPTER 27** _

 

That godly voice was the first thing Silver remembered. Coming from the abyss, commanding to storms and sea and men alike. Burning like the surface of the sun, closer to Silver, he had been enthralled, he had thought himself smart, the fool, the coward, but that voice, he had had no choice! The voice commanding him to lie, _create another you,_ that voice asking for his life. Oh, Silver would have liked to run, jump into the sea!

Oh, how he regretted his cowardice! How easy it would have been, he could see it now! What had he won in the end, for keeping this fiery voice in his life? The past was blurry, but the memories remained intact. The suddenly gone silhouette, the sea-god, studying him, learning him, burning through him. A voice like fire, hair like fire, eyes like the green fire of damnation were the first things Silver had come to cherish that were not his own life.

Flint’s eyes had been made of the most precious emerald, the eyes of a god of war, of a soul burning eternally. Dead, yet alive, when Silver had for too long running away from fate and death. Dark, when Silver’s soul had been a dull grey like England. Corrupted by freedom, a dark green pit in which Silver could not help but fall.

Silver had loved that long fall.

Silver had felt his fear and hatred turn into something else. A feeling.

And oh, how had Silver loved falling into the dark abyss!

It was a love made of salt and dark eyes and blood. So unlike his cowardly love for himself. It was a love he had recognised too last and refused to accept. A doomed love, a dark love. Child of the darkness that had destroyed them both. Born of the war. Silver had changed too much since that fateful day, since his hand clutched crumpled paper. The monster he had tailored to survive had loved Flint, and Flint had loved him back, in his own dark ways.

But it was too late now.

How wrong they had been…

 

_**CHAPTER 28** _

 

Deeply engulfed in an alcoholic mist, minute after minute of the few blessed months spent in the company of Silver were twisted from Flint’s memory. A part of him was still not believing that the fire he carried for Thomas had been dulled out by that mess of a man that had stumbled into his life. Dark curls, dark words, dark mind, and how he had loved him!

Thomas had been James’s love. Flint, in the dark of the nights spent on the Walrus chasing his own shadows, had believed James to be still alive, buried alive beneath layers of hate. He had underestimated the changes. Life is a funny thing. He had believed the past unimportant when he had rushed into Thomas’s embrace. _Forget it, forget it all… be born again._ He should have been back to his old self, the murders forgotten and the violence too. Why, Flint wailed out loud to an empty tavern, why does love die out for philosophical principles? More than ever before, that night, Flint wished he could go back in time. He would erase the past, burn, burn it all and he could burn with it too for all he cared. He was ready, drunk, he was ready, almost passing out, ready to do any concessions. He would never confess to Thomas, to keep him innocent. He would never create Flint, to save himself. Pining would have been better. Ignorant, young and foolish, everything would have been better.

Yet there he was. Lying on the dirty ground, a war machine. Jaded and destroyed, burned like his victims. He closed his eyes, willing for the darkness to consume him like it once had, wishing for a dreamless sleep.

Death waits until memories give way to dreams.

 

_**CHAPTER 29** _

 

He Deeply engulfed in an alcoholic mist, minute after minute of the few blessed months spent in the company of Flint were twisted from Silver’s memory. A part of him was still convinced he had made the right choice exchanging Flint for peace, tearing out a part of his heart in the process, like separating Siamese twins. Fire hair, scorching words and a burning mind, and how he had love him! Silver had believed he would not get to care. Silver, in the dark of the nights spent on the Walrus, walking on eggshells between the fire attracting him and acts of treason, had believed he coulds still get away from it. Forge himself a new identity and a new life, far from Nassau and far from Flint’s eyes. He had underestimated the changes. Life is a funny thing. He had believed their connection unimportant when he had sealed their love’s fate. _Forget it, forget it all… let it die._ It was wrong, he should have been back to his old self, the murders forgotten and the violence too. The war and darkness should have bled out of his system by now. Why, Silver cried admits the chatter of a busy tavern, why does love has to be sacrificed for the sake of a world that does not care? More than ever before, that night, Silver wished he could go back in time. He would erase the past, burn, burn it all and he could burn with it too for all he cared. He was ready, drunk, he was ready, almost passing out, ready to do any concessions. He would never lie to Flint, to protect himself from the pain of choosing. He would never be Long John Silver, to save himself. He would not pine for the affections of a man who loved another if they never met. Ignorant, young and cowardly, everything would have been better.

Yet there he was. Lying on the dirty ground, a war machine. Jaded and destroyed, crushed like his victims. He closed his eyes, willing for the darkness to consume him like it once had, wishing for a dreamless sleep.

Death waits until memories give way to dreams.

 

_**CHAPTER 30** _

 

They had saved each other’s lives.

Countless times.

They had hated each other with all the fury of the sea. But sometimes of the deepest mistrust, of the most fierce hatred and the most reluctant companionship can be born a gem. Harder than a black diamond. Something above all laws, above love and death. A bond of co-dependency which one can only notice when it has burned its way into their heart, when it is controlling every pump of blood, every breath.

_For you were I and I was you._

_And you pulled me, pulled me to you._

_You tattered me,_

_You drowned me,_

_But you pulled me, pulled me to you._

Years apart, Flint and Silver remember every second of pain, every doubt, every second of bliss spent in each other’s presence. Together they had been something else. Their hearts full, if only they had known! They would not have needed to search for any ghost or treasure, but life’s lures were too strong even for them.

A fire between them, in a dark forest. They remembered in slow motion having opened their hearts to each other at the end of the world. When nothing but blood and glory mattered anymore. When they had thought no prayer could save them.

 

_**CHAPTER 31** _

 

Now, wishing for a dreamless death.

_My love, know no shame._

A dreamless night, yet Flint’s tortured soul could not know rest. The cruel claws of love were piercing his core, tearing him apart. In his mind’s eye Thomas understood. In his mind’s eye Thomas forgave. That was the worse thing. The burning realisation that love indeed knew no shame. Love, so pure. Thomas’s love for James, Thomas who forgave, Thomas who blessed him. Words, stuck in his throat at the wrong moment. Thomas would have understood and forgiven him for loving Silver, the part of darkness inside him. Thomas might have let go, his own love a crystallised droplet of the past. Flint burned with alcohol and fever.

How could it go this wrong?

_We were kings once. Hand in hand, marching to war…_

How could it go this wrong?

Tankard after tankard, night after night Flint crumbled, he crumbled on himself as he remembered.

 

A fire between them, in a dark forest. Flint remembered in slow motion having opened their hearts to each other at the end of the world. When nothing but blood and glory mattered anymore. When he had thought no prayer could save them. A few inches from each other. The closest they had ever been after an eternity spent at each other’s side. A slow move forward would have been enough, the slightest touch, to change the course of events. To change the world.

Together.

 

**_CHAPTER 32_ **

 

Now, wishing for a dreamless death.

_But I will stay. And I will wait. A day a month a year forever in the hopes that you will understand why I did what I did._

A dreamless night, yet Silver’s tortured soul could not know rest. The cruel claws of love were piercing his core, tearing him apart. Deep within himself he understood Madi now. In his mind’s eye he admitted his wrong. That was the worse thing. The burning realisation that what he had done long ago had probably not bben the best thing. Love was twisted, love had never been pure. Flint’s love for Thomas had been a relic from another world, and Silver, the fool, had thought he would protect them! He had thought his solution the only one, everybody getting what they wanted in the end, but what had he wanted again? Words, stuck in his throat at the wrong moment. Madi had already understood and forgiven him for loving Flint, the part of darkness inside him.Madi the flamboyant new queen would have let them go. Go where? Back onto a lost island, marooned. Back into the past, it did not matter. Together. Silver burned with alcohol and fever.

How could it go this wrong?

_We were kings once. Hand in hand, marching to war…_

How could it go this wrong?

Tankard after tankard, night after night Silver collapsed, he collapsed on himself as he remembered.

 

A fire between them, in a dark forest. Silver remembered in slow motion having opened their hearts to each other at the end of the world. When nothing but blood and glory mattered anymore. When he had thought no prayer could save them. A few inches from each other. The closest they had ever been after an eternity spent at each other’s side. A slow move forward would have been enough, the slightest touch, to change the course of events. To change the world.

… together was the only way to survive.

 

**_ CHAPTER 33 _ **

 

One last time Flint crumbled, he crumbled on himself as he dreamt.

One last time Silver collapsed on himself as he dreamt.

_I found you, oh my love._

 

The dream at first was of a white beach. White like the teared off pages of a book. The fog of the past rising from the calm sea. Flint felt strange. He had not been this sober since long ago. His limbs felt new, his hands no longer trembled. His feet were numb, he felt almost weightless as a walked along the coastline. The sun was nothing but a distant light, neither warm nor cold. There should have been a sea breeze. The water was grey, and Flint felt nothing as it pooled around his naked feet. There was nothing on the horizon, the fog and the clear sky mixing into white cotton. How long did Flint stay like that, his legs licked by salt water, his eyes blinded by a too clear landscape? Under the sun, he should have felt feverish. The air unmoving, the sea too calm. And slowly, immobile as if it had always been there, a black dot emerged from the horizon. It was like an ink droplet against the pale grey canvas of the sea-sky. Flint found out he could not blink, could not move his eyes away from the darkness. His feet moved on their own accord, and soon he was waist-deep into the sea. The lukewarm water, he found out, was slowly burning into his skin, a dull pain, and the level was rising as he walked on and on towards that tiny piece of darkness. The sun never setting on a sea made of tears, the water imperceptibly becoming darker and darker as the droplet dissolved into the infinity of the sea.

And when Flint reached the centre of the dream, the imaginary line where sky and sea meet, the darkness took the shape of a raft.

 

Silver woke up to a foggy sky. It was a dream, his mind told him. It could only be a dream, he had not been out at sea in an eternity or two. He tried to think about it, he tried to make sense of the dream, sitting up, but his head became unbearably heavy under the absent sun, and he was forced to lie down again. His head came in contact with dry wood. Floating. A floating raft, in the middle of a sea of salty grey milk. Floating in the direction of nowhere. Using an inordinate amount of strength, Silver managed to swing his hand over the raft, the water lukewarm on his fingers. The movement of his fingers sent no ripples through the calm sea. Over Silver’s head the fog rolled like waves. It was strange. Even as his body seemed to be so heavy it would become part of the dark wood of the raft, Silver felt no pain. He had no trouble breathing, He could feel his hair pooling under his head, luscious curls overflowing over the raft, caressing the grey water, getting heavier, darker with salt water. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Silver saw a dark glimmer on the horizon. A dot, like a droplet of ink on a grey book’s page. Silver was floating, in the direction of the dot? The air, the waters were unmoving. Was that little bit of darkness coming closer, or was it a figment of his imagination? Time passed at a dream’s rhythm, invisible, the sun never setting, the water never rising. A sea made of tears spilt long ago, becoming darker almost imperceptibly as the dot dissolved into the corner of Silver’s vision.

And when Silver finally found within himself the strength to lift his head from the wood of the raft, he saw, on the imaginary grey line where the grey sky met the grey sea, the darkness taking the shape of a silhouette.

 

Walking closer.

Floating closer.

The water darker, inch by inch, and the sky darker.

Two dark droplets in the sea of dreams, the fabric of the world. Meeting at the close. At the close of the dream. Eyes meeting, and the water rose. The waves crashed, coloured all shades of dark, the sky fell, the fog suffocating.

And the dream evolved into boiling water, thick like blood, the urge of life. A scorching sun, dark edges at the angles and the corners of the imaginary line. Meeting at last, again.

The water was rising fast over Flint’s head, smelling of blood and salt, tasting of alcohol. Too hot, too thick, his limbs numb he could barely swim. The weight of the wood was too much under the pressure of the water and Silver felt his raft sink. His limbs fused with the wood, useless. He barely had the time to breath in the salty red fog before he was taken underwater. He could see from under the surface, the dark silhouette tower over him. He was going deeper, deeper, sinking to the bottom of the sea.

 

Suddenly Flint felt, deep within himself, the urge to scream. Something was building up inside his chest, a feeling, bottled up for too long. He could not name it, it could not face it. He had no words left to scream. No tongue. No language left to translate his heart. The red water slowly drowning him, pushing against his chest, a last effort of survival.

Suddenly Silver felt, deep withing himself, the urge to scream. Something was building up inside his chest, a feeling, left ignored for too long. He could not name it, and would not eve try. He had no words left to scream. No air in his lungs. No smart words lefts to masquerade his heart’s contents. The red water slowly pulling him deeper, pushing against his chest, a last effort of survival.

Survival. No one dies in a dream. Survival, turn the world upside down, spill the red water into the sky.

A primal scream.

A silent scream.

The same scream.

Flint dived, strong like the young man he would never be again, his limbs obeying every command. Survival. _It was him._ Silver swam with a desperate strength. No longer for himself, _it was him._ At the imaginary midpoint they met. Fingers clawing at shoulders, swimming against the raging sea. No words, no words were needed now. Their heads emerged from the boiling water, breathing like the first day.

They had met again.

_Oh my love… I found you._

 

Angered, the sea of red sent wave after wave to drown them. But it was a dream, just a dream, and Flint and Silver looked into each other’s eyes. Imagined eyes, both conscious of the dream. Life coursing through their veins, trust in their eyes. Like before, two sides of the same coin. One needing the other to exist. Together, they swam to the grey shore. Together, they fled the enraged sea of spilt blood, their feet battering the burning sand, two dark ants under the molten sun.

Together, they would have survived.

 

The white beach was blinding them. Unending sand, the sea behind them eve closer. An imaginary line in front of them, the horizon that brought salvation, the land-ahoy. Something to run for. They were running for the wasted chance, for the tears and the blood. For leaving, for waiting. Hand in hand, breathless, they were running away from their mistakes. At last, at the close, they had found each other. Now, never would they let go.

 

Against the ever advancing sea, against the scorching sun, shadows rose around them like a protection, shadows of trees. They ran, breathless, through this newborn forest. They ran as equals, losing themselves further and further into the labyrinth of blackened trees. If they had stopped to look at the trees, they would have seen on the barks familiar faces. Engraved into the wood, looking at them, judging them. Words whispered, barely audible over the sound of their feet. They did not care about the faces of the past, they did not care about the unheard words. In that dream, Thomas never existed. In that dream, Madi never existed.

In that dream love knew no shame, in that dream it was worth waiting. In that dream they had found each other before it was too late.

Together, they would have survived.

_Oh my love… I found you,_

 

Drawing closer to its end, the dream was invaded by darkness. The shape of trees framing the picture, a fire in the centre, a fire to burn them, destroy and bring them to life all over again.

This time they did not speak. Instinct had taken over, given them the chance to change the past, for the time of a fantasy. They remained silent as they killed the tension between them, as they merged their dependency into one being. Fitting perfectly against one another, lying in the fire. Their skin painted in golds and black by the light of the fire, their hands shaping out battle scars. No words were needed as they explored, lead by the memories. There they found it, in each other, in the fire. In the midst of hurried, rough gestures, consuming each other, drawing over and over again the sacred breath of life.

Their bodies naked, had they been wearing clothes in the first place? Months spent learning the angles and curves, the imaginary lines of each other’s bodies. Learning in the darkness, the memories coming back, memories of caring hands when SIlver had been under an excruciating pain. The palm of a hand on Flint’s shoulder when his blood had been boiling too strongly. Long glares directed at long legs. Now and finally fingers followed the journey their eyes had made countless times. The world outside their dream was burning for all they cared.

There, in their bed of gold and fire they saw what happiness was. No mask, not barrier, no names. Only the darkness around them, the darkness they had created, the darkness of their hearts, and the fire in the centre, the pyre of the glorious dead. The staccato of dying hearts that forgot to live their last moments. Lips crashing against each other, tongues battling. Tasting blood and ashes and darkness on each other. Their bodies a perfect mirror of each other, broken at the angles, jaded and dark. Bony fingers leaving trails of fire on their backs, their chests, the inside of their thighs, as the pyre grew bigger and bigger, and the forest became darker. Outside of the protective prison of the black trees they could hear their war, the screams and the cannons. The outside world could burn for all they cared, now they had each other. The screams and the cannons in tune with the waves of their movements, as one, they had each other. They were fighting a sweet, passionate war. A war waged against the whole world through each other's bodies. The fire that had burned for so long deep inside their hearts was growing into something bigger, morphing into a giant, something that could have taken over the world. In the midst of passion, one with each other they caught a glimpse _too late_ of what they could have become. A perfect being of fire and night, a tandem that needed no words to communicate, a love so strong that with each thrust, each cry they were breaking, destroying each other, with each thrust with each sigh they were creating, unbreaking each other.

And the forest around them burned as they burned too. Crumbled, collapsed, corpses.

_Oh my love… I found you,_

_Oh my love I’ve lost you._

 

One last time Flint crumbled, he crumbled on himself as he dreamt. Fallen chair and cold brow.

One last time Silver collapsed on himself as he dreamt. Crushed wood under his weight and spilt drink.

 

How long did the dream last? Nobody would ever know. An identical fantasy shared years apart. A dream that lasts long enough for legends and kings to die.

_Oh my love I’ve lost you… how could we be this wrong?_

Still people tell their tales. Tall tales of giants. Kings, gods of the sea.

“Long John Silver was the King once.

James Flint, Vengeance’s champion.”

 

They had burned.

 

“Dead long ago, dead to the civilised world and to each other. Dead, they had wished to be. Thomas. Miranda. Billy. Dead, their friends. Charles. Eleanor. Hal. Dead and hanged and keelhauled and dead drowned shot hanged high. Muldoon. Edward. Howell. Forgotten gods of the sea. James. John.”

 

Somewhere, people still told tales of there lives, tall tales of giants. But there below they did not care. Out of time, their questions had too many answers.

 

“Long John Silver.

Captain Flint.”

 

Had they remembered their own names, in the brief moment when the dream ends and death comes? Below in hell names did not matter anymore. Below in hell their fire had kept burning, burning the sea and melting the gold that corrupt the hearts of men.

 

But even gods die, in pain, agony beneath a table, drowned below the sea of cheap spirit, a blessed sleep, a dreamless death. Forgetting one last where they went wrong, the memories fading as the dawn breaks one last time over the sea.

 

_How could it go this wrong? What did I do, what did you do? I lost you… you lost me. We were so wrong. Oh my love, when I found you... You made me, I broke you. I made you, you broke me. Unbreak us. Oh my love, I have lost you. Oh my love, my sweet love, let it all unbreak us._

Below they had crumbled, a dreamless eternity at the bottom of a sea of dark souls.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> There you go, you made it to the end! I sincerely apologise for not being able to write anything normal for Black Sails, but I guess that's how it is.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had fun writing it, and don't forget to leave kudos and comments, they make the author happy. Also really, go have a look at [beanarie](http://beanarie.tumblr.com/)  
> , whom I will never be able to thank enough for the awesome art!


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